Hide and Seek

I heard him wail as the head came up at him and he tried to hit it a

second time and it moved so that he overshot his mark, and saw the jaws

clamp down on his arm just above the wrist. His scream went higher,

shriller. Beneath it the awful crunch of bone as the jaws ground down

and through him and the hand crumbled away, falling off his arm,

falling slowly like the limb of a tree under a chain saw.

I got to my feet.

Light swung wildly around me as he battered the dog with his

flashlight. His bad hand, I thought idiotically. I could see the gout

of blood pulsing, pouring off his other wrist, the long slash mark on

the animal's back where I'd hit him.

I ran toward them, off-balance this time, and reached them just as the

flashlight flew out of the bandaged hand in a wide arc and the animal

moved again. The light guttered out, clattering against stone, and

then went on again, its beam playing over the floor to the right of me.

My second stab at him had been darkness. The pitchfork jarred against

solid rock.

When the light went on again there was just a gurgling sound.

Steve was facing me, sitting, his back to the wall beside the

entranceway. His eyes were rolled up so only the whites showed. His

head lolled off to one side. His mouth was open, and something dark

spilled down across his chin.

The dog was at his stomach.

Pulling.

I froze.

The dog's haunches tensed as it tugged again.

He seemed to fold and sigh, his body sliding down the dark wet wall.

Ismelled urine and feces. In his lap everything turned a ghastly

white.

The dog let go. Its jaws continued working something. Its head turned

slowly and looked at me.

I backed away.

The animal just stood there, watching me. Its eye catching a beam of

light. The room was filled with the stink of us. I backed away

further, slowly. There was a column just to the left of me. I wanted

to put it between us. I wanted to hide.

I watched his eyes.